Secrets from the Past
by lyrewolf101
Summary: After years of fighting alongside S.H.E.I.L.D and her partner Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff's past finally catches up to her. People start to disappear and reappear back into her life, and old demons return. Can she stop the new threat or will her darkest secrets from her past finally be revealed?
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own the Avengers.**

Rain poured down onto the ashes of an old building in the middle of nowhere. It used to be a hospital where the sick were taken care of; where babies were born, where people came to get help. That was before the fire happened. The fire came and burned almost everything down to the ground. It happened so fast, it couldn't be stopped.

It happened years ago, but the city didn't bother to do anything with it. The hospital was out in the middle of nowhere and going out of business. No one has bothered to come and clean it up, or rebuild it. But the hospital wasn't alone, no. Someone was there.

"Shit," they muttered. The person was standing on the wood when the rain came down. The droplets destroyed what they were working on in the dirt.

The person stalked off toward another part of the hospital. Thunder and lightning clashed above, lighting the wood and ash in an eerie way, creating shadows that danced around. Normally, a person would be scared to the bone, but this person wasn't normal. In fact, normal was the last thing on their to-be list.

"Come on," they muttered, "it's gotta be here somewhere. Shit, if that bastard was lying, I will skin him alive. And burn him at the stake."

The stranger flipped through ashes after ashes, and still found nothing. "Where the hell could it be?" they wondered. They have been at it for hours, trying to find something that was very important, that could bring a very important someone _down._

The person kicked a piece of charcoal and sent it flying twenty feet away with frustration. A thought entered their mind, _Give up._ The stranger growled and punched a table with a broken leg, leaning on its side hard enough to give the metal a good sized dent. They didn't know the meaning of "give up". It was _not_ something they were taught back _there. _Back there, they would be shot right then and there if they _gave up, _and that's what happened to most. Only the best of the best survived, and the stranger was one of them.

A shudder went through the person's spine. "There" was shut down, gone, thanks to _someone_ who just had to get her hands dirty and bomb the place. Almost no one came from that massacre alive.

Just as they were about to go back to their informer and do "things" to them for lying, lightning struck a nearby pole 200 yards away from them. For a split second, light appeared and glinted off of something buried in the ash five feet to their right. The stranger whipped their head to the sparkle and thrust their hands into the ash, searching for the treasure that was surly there.

Their hand brushed against something, and they tugged it out. They gasped. _Finally. _There it was, the thing that nearly cost their life and hours of searching in this fucked up shit-hole. The treasure was small, and exactly what they were looking for.

The stranger grinned evilly and cackled as they whipped around and ran at blazing speed toward what was once the main entrance of the hospital. A silver Mazda 3 was parked in the charred parking lot. The blacktop was covered in debris, with the faint smell of wet cement lingering in the air.

The Stranger splashed toward the car and yanked open the passenger's seat. Sitting there was a man in his late 40's with graying hair and a torn suit. He looked unconscious, but the Stranger knew better, after all, they have been trained for this.

They shot their hand out and yanked on his hair, nearly ripping it out.

"Wake up, Marakov," they hissed.

The man's head flew back and revealed a bloodied face with skin whiter than paper. The Stranger glared at the man and promptly slapped him with their hand-they didn't have time for this. His head flung to the side with the sound of skin slapping skin.

The man named Marakov groaned and slowly woke up. He winced and squinted up at the stranger. His eyes widened with fear as they stared into the eyes of death. The eyes were dark emerald green, but were filled with psychotic evil.

"Wh-what do you want…" he whispered and looked away from the frightening gaze.

"Good new-I found it," they said, "Bad news-I no longer need you."

In a flash, Marakov's head was roughly grabbed and twisted it effortlessly to its side in a sickening _crack!_ The head snapped and the neck was broken.

"Weak son of a bitch," the stranger muttered.

The stranger rapped their arms around the now dead Marakov's waist and heaved him over their shoulder, as if he were a sack of flour. They walked to the back of the car and opened up the trunk. Marakov's body was sloppily thrown into it and the stranger slammed the trunk shut.

Cracks and snaps were heard and the trunk was shut. The body wasn't fully in, so the bones and muscles were torn and broken. A hand and a bloody finger were lingering out of the trunk, leaving trails of blood dripping from the tailgate.

The Stranger climbed into the car and turned it on. The engine roared to life and sped out of the parking lot, leaving a tiny trail of blood from the back. About 100 yards away from the hospital, the person stuck their hand into a pocket and pulled out a small remote. _Click_. Milliseconds later, a loud BOOM shook the earth. The bomb went off and the hospital went up in flames once again.

But this time, it was different. Among the ruins were new bodies. These bodies were of young girls between the ages of 8-16 with bright red hair that was cut to the shoulder carelessly with a knife and pale skin. Each one was dressed in black clothing with their eyes closed. Each one of them was dead. there was no sign of even a scratch on them from their murder, except a cut on their stomach. The cut was a two inch long hourglass embedded into their skin, like those of a black widow. The blood from the girls' bodies gave the hourglass a dark red outline, making it stand out even more.

From inside of the car, the stranger took off their hood, revealing a woman no more than 25 with green eyes and hair as yellow as gold, slightly standing out from her skin, that was beautiful and pasty looking at the same time-from not getting enough sun, but that wasn't her fault.

The woman watched the explosion with a gleeful sparkle in her eyes through the car mirror. She kept on driving and took out what she was after. She pulled out a locket. It was once originally a beautiful gold locket shaped like a heart. After years of wear and tear, not to mention the ash, the locket was brown and black with splotches of dirt and grime. If it was to be cleaned up, the locket could well be worth thousands of dollars, for it was originally created out of 24 carat gold.

But that's not what the woman wanted it for. She hastily pried it open to reveal a tiny, dirty, picture of a little girl, what looked to be like her sister, and their parents in black and white. They were all smiling like they were having the time of their life when this was taken. Too bad that was a while ago, before their family was destroyed, courtesy of her boss.

She stared at the older girl. She looked to be about four or five, with black and white pepper hair that would've been a fiery red. They girl's little round eyes would've matched her own. She threw back her head and cackled with laughter what would've shaken the Devil himself.

"Come get me, Natalia," she said, "I'll be waiting."

**Criticism. I will try to update as soon as possible!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, sorry for the delay...I really have no excuse. I have already written part of the next chapter so hopefully it will be a quicker update.**

**I don't own the Avengers.**

* * *

_"…and oh did she "smash" that balloon_," said the TV program.

Natasha and Clint were at the Avengers Tower (formally known as Stark Tower) watching TV, bored out of their minds. It had been six months and New York City has been surprisingly doing very well since it was destroyed by E.T., courtesy of Loki.

The missions had been slow and boring for the two assassins. It's as if they were being punished for saving the world!

For Natasha and Clint, they have practically done everything in the Avengers Tower they could possibly do. Destroying punching bags, setting fire to the kitchen, pulling pranks of Stark, threatening Stark's life, they're living the dream! – note the sarcasm.

Tony said that it would be easier to find everyone if they're living under the same roof if there ever was a need to save the world, but it was not so secretly that he was just lonely and bored when his girlfriend, Pepper, was off running Stark Industries. And that's how the Avengers Tower was born.

At first, it was just Bruce for the first few weeks, until Steve came unexpectedly during one night, saying he was being stalked by some crazy, never ending fans that happened to find out his secret and ran after him ever since.

For the first two days, he was afraid to even step out onto the sky deck, paranoid that they were there, watching. That went on until Tony finally decided to do something about it and the girls were suspiciously never seen again, but nobody was complaining - they freaked everyone out.

It took a while, but Tony was finally able to talk Fury "letting" the two assassins into staying at the tower when they were off missions. When they arrived, they grumbled something about being suspended from missions for nine months if they said, "No."

Tony was able to rebuild Stark Tower into something even greater; at least, that's how he had put it. He built all of the Avengers their own floor, including an indoor pool, a workout center, a and a giant family room where everyone mostly hanged out in.

At the top was made for Thor, when he came back to Earth. Next were Clint and then Natasha, then Steve, then Tony, and then Bruce. There were at least ten extra rooms on each floor in case company came, as well as floors.

Lately, there haven't been any real missions for the Avengers to go on. Unless calling a "run for your lives, Natasha Romanoff is going to kill you!" adventure counts (which happens a lot).

That usually happens when Tony tries to talk to her about her and Clint's love life. It was either that, or he would take her guns or something else that belongs to her.

But nobody touches her precious Glocks, _nobody._

"Clint, give me the remote, it's time to watch something other than Wipe Out for once," said Natasha, laying on the brown leather couch in front of the 72" plasma screen TV. Both she and Clint were sprawled out on the couch, with Nat lying with her back pressed against the cushions and her legs over Clint's lap.

"But it's sooo funny, Nat," whined Clint, "come on, you know you love it." He poked her in the stomach.

Natasha whipped her head over and glared at him. Clint quickly stopped jamming his finger into her and looked away because they both know no matter how much she likes him, she wouldn't spare second thought at taking off his finger with one of her never ending knives hidden on her body.

"Do that again, and we'll see how well you can shoot an arrow with a missing finger," she said threateningly.

Clint huffed and tossed her the remote, knowing that she would probably do it if he didn't.

Natasha smirked, "Smart move."

He snorted - as if. Natasha pointed the remote at the TV and flipped through the channels. Hmmm…Of Mice and Men, boring…Dear John…ugh, sound like a letter that no one ever bothered to finish…The Fast and the Furious, seen it…The Women in Black…Two and a Half Men…wait.

She flipped back to The Women in Black and watched it for a few seconds, deciding on whether to watch the show, or skip more channels to see if something better was on. The movie had started thirty minutes prior, and Daniel Radcliff was talking to some dude about a women living in her mansion.

"Hmmm…." Natasha said as she mulled over on watching it. So far, it seemed rather boring, then again, so are most channels on TV, so what's she got to lose?

"Well someone sounds like she found something to watch," Clint said, breaking her train of thought.

She glared halfheartedly at him. "Shut up," she muttered. She was too tired to do anything at the moment.

"Just because of the title Women in _Black_…the _Black_ Widow must watch it," he muttered under his breath.

_Racist. _He earned a knee to the ribs for that.

_Damn assassin,_ he thought as he rubbed his now bruised ribs, trying to ignore that pain that was spreading across his chest.

"Grow up, you asshole," Nat glared at him.

"But Tasha, we both know how much you just _love_ adult men," he said sarcastically - she loves them _to death._ It was a cruel joke, but it was true.

"I like them more than an overgrown man-child who acts like he's still in his single digits."

"And yet you're still here," Clint wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Natasha glared at him. _Smack! _Clint's head whipped to the side, with a bright red hand shaped mark on his cheek.

"Ow, Tasha, that hurt," he complained.

"You're supposed to be a highly trained assassin. We don't feel pain, and if we do, we sure as hell don't show it." Clint scoffed.

"Sometimes it's best to show pain to let your partner know that you've been shot or something," he shot back.

Out of nowhere, a glint shot through his eyes, and before Natasha realized what was happening, he pounced on her, and sent both of them crashing down to the ground.

"Clint," Natasha growled, "get off me."

"Make me," he said arrogantly. Wrong choice of words. Within seconds, Clint's side was jammed into by a knee, was thrown off, and ended with his body slamming into the floor with a giant THUD.

Natasha leapt up graciously and sat back on the sofa. She grabbed the remote once more and sprawled out into a comfortable position, leaving no room for poor Clint. Clint groaned from the floor and slowly dragged himself up.

"Hey…" he whined when he saw that Nat had taken up the empty space.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Grow up, Barton."

He huffed and crawled over to the couch and sat in front of it, leaning his back onto its side.

"Freaking assassin," he muttered.

"Man child," she shot back.

"Child hater!"

"Hobbit!"

"Gun obessor!"

"Circus rat!"

"Pervert!"

"Pedophile!"

Clint gasped, "Natasha! How rude."

"You want rude Barton? I'll give you rude…" Natasha growled.

Natasha was off of the couch and on Clint in milliseconds. They crashed to the ground and Natasha effectively locked his arms and legs under her with and iron grip.

She glared at him and a knife appeared in her hand. The knife was 3.5 inches long with a 2 inch blade far sharper and thinner than razors. It was as gleaming silver metal with red lines engraved on the handle.

She pointed the blade millimeters from his throat. "Is this rude enough for you?" she whispered.

Before she could do any further damage to his body, a voice spoke up from behind them.

"You know, there are rooms for situations like these," said none other than Tony Stark, the bastard of a billionaire.

The two assassins turned and glared at the rich son of bitch standing between Steve and Bruce. Steve and Bruce's faces were bright red from Tony's comment, and were looking down at the ground.

"Shut up, Stark," they said in synchronize.

"Geez," he muttered, "Blame a guy form making one measly comment."

"Seriously, do you w_ant_ to push your luck _now_, Stark?" Natasha threatened.

Tony paled. He shook his head rapidly. "No, no, of course not, Agent Romanoff," he said fearfully.

"Common, guys," Tony gestured to the two men at his sides, "let's go do something else while they watch TV."

Tony quickly shoved Steve and Bruce back into the elevator and left without another word.

_Silence._

"Umm…" Clint said uncertainly, "What the _hell_ was that about?! Tony _never _listens to anybody. _Especially_ you."

Natasha shrugged and pulled herself off of Clint. "Tony gassed my room and few days ago. It was a toxic chemical he was working on in the lab with Bruce and it "accidently," she quoted the word with her fingers, "traveled through the air vents and went into my room. He's _still_ trying to get rid of all of it, and he knows that revenge will come sooner or later."

"…and you want my help," he finished. Clint grinned up at her and wagged his eyebrows.

Natasha ignored him and walked toward the elevator. "Dunno," she said mysteriously, "But if I do, you'll find out tonight."

And with that, she disappeared behind the doors of the elevators.

That night, the Avengers crashed early, mostly because they didn't have anything better to do. It was odd, considering that they rarely ever get a full night's rest with the stuff they do. Tony and Bruce usually spent most of their nights down in the lab working and tinkering on their toys. Steve, Clint, and Natasha stay up because they don't want to relive things that have happened in their past. While Thor, well, nobody never knows what Thor's up to since he is either up on Asgard doing kingly things or down on Earth, where he meets with some woman named Jane.

Around 2 AM, Clint's door squeaked open. A shadow filled the room where the light hit. The person walked up toward Clint's bed and loomed over him. Just as their hands were about to him, Clint jumped up with blinding speed and yanked the knife that he kept under his pillow toward his attacker. The attacker skillfully dodged the blade and twisted his arm, knocking it out of his hand.

"Whoa Clint! It's me, it's me," Natasha said.

She held her arms up in surrender and took a step back. Clint's eyes readjusted to the light from the door and looked up at her in bewilderment.

"Nat? What are you doing here…" he wondered and glanced at his clock, "at 2:15 in the morning?! You know, most people are asleep at this hour."

"But we're not most, Clint. I know you were awake with your eyes closed when I came into your room. Remind me to help you work on your acting skills later."

"Hey! I can fake taking a nap thank you very much."

"Yeah but not very well," she said under her breath.

"Huh? What was that?" Clint asked, feigning a look of innocence.

"Fine," she stubbornly admitted, "Tony gassed my room. But you already knew that, and I want you to help me get revenge. I got bored of punching dummies and S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't given us any missions for a while. I need _something_ to do."

"Well this ought to be good," Clint stretched, "What is this 'oh brilliant plan of yours?"

Natasha smirked, "I knew you'd want in."

"Hey, you can't keep the King of Pranks out of the famous Black Widow's prank," he shrugged.

"Who's the King?" Natasha asked curiously.

Clint gasped, "Ouch, Tasha, we all know I'm royal."

"Yeah, a royal pain in the ass," she snorted.

Clint laughed at looked at her. Her short curly red hair framed her face so perfectly it made his heart pound even more. Green emerald eyes stared into his gray-blue ones with humor swirling in them. Yeah, she was back. Her gray shirt was big and baggy on her small frame, and her pants were black sports shorts that-wait a minute. _A_ _big baggy gray shirt? _

"Is that _my shirt_ you're wearing, Natasha?" he said slowly.

Natasha looked down to see what T-shirt she threw on that night. She froze when she saw what she was wearing.

Shit, he was right.

"What are you talking about?" she asked smoothly. _Too smoothly_. Clint smirked. Oh yes she is. Acting skills be damned.

"You know what I'm talking about. _That shirt_," he pointed at the one she was wearing, "is mine."

"No it's not," she said too quickly, "It's mine."

Her mask was slipping. Clint gave her a shit-eating grin, "Bullshit, and you know it." Natasha gave him a black face.

"Shut up, Barton before I shove your arrows up your ass."

"How did you even g_et _it, though?" he asked. All of the sudden, it hit him like slap in the face. _Bucharest. _Of course! He'd almost forgotten about that mission - _almost_.

"Is that the shirt I gave you to during the snow storm in Bucharest to keep you warm?" he smiled deviously.

Clint had just assumed Natasha had put it back in his closet when they got back from the mission. What he had not expected, however, that she _kept_ the shirt and actually _slept_ in it.

"That was a shit mission and you know it," she muttered grumpily.

That's when they realized how close they were to each other. During their little midnight brawl, Clint and Natasha had unconsciously moved toward each other until they were only inches apart.

Clint and Natasha locked eyes. Slowly, the space between them began to disappear. They stopped when their lips were only a pencil thick away. Natasha could feel Clint's breath on her face and she felt the stirrings in her stomach begin to grow. Damn her stupid emotions, they _always_ interfered with her life!

Just as her lips brushed his…

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ Natasha's watched went off. The two assassins reflexively jumped away from each other and put a hand on their guns they kept with them. Natasha's watched kept beeping and they both looked at it. It read 2:30.

"Well," she sighed as she stood up, "I've got to go, revenge doesn't wait, especially Stark's."

Clint still sat on the bed, in a daze. What the _hell_ just happened? He stared at the floor and tried to recollect on what just took place 5 seconds before. He, Clint Barton, had _almost kissed Natasha Romanoff._

"…Clint?" said a voice that swam around in his head.

Clint looked up and saw his partner looking down at him.

"Wha?" he spluttered.

She smirked. Yeah, she's still got it. "I said, 'Are you coming?" she repeated.

"Oh, Yeah," Clint smiled and bounded after Natasha out of the door.

The next morning, Natasha was in the family kitchen drinking a cup of coffee with a _different_ shirt on - she made sure of it.

She was leaning on the counter when the elevator doors opened and Clint walked in. He had a tired look on his face from the night before. He perked up when he stepped in and instantly smelled the coffee brewing in the kitchen.

"So," he said as he walked to the coffee, "is the trap set?"

"Shh!" Natasha hissed, "Do you want the whole _world_ to know?!"

Clint held up his hands in surrender. Hey, don't blame him! He was still half asleep from helping _her._

"Sorry!" he whispered, "but in case you didn't know, everyone else is asleep."

Just then the elevator doors opened and Steve walked in.

"Good morning," he nodded towards Clint and Natasha.

"Hey, Steve," said Natasha coolly. She raised an eyebrow and shot Clint an 'I told you so' look.

Clint huffed. It's not like he _watches_ everyone sleep.

"Shut up," he muttered and grabbed his coffee mug from the cupboard.

The kitchen fell into silence as they all sipped their brown drinks. Bruce came down a few minutes later and joined them in the peace. There was no noise except for the gulping of heaven in a mug.

"So," Steve said, breaking the silence, "What is the plan for-"

He was never able to finish that sentence because a bloodcurdling feminine scream filled the room. The three men instantly whipped their heads toward the only woman in the building.

She shrugged. "It wasn't me," she said. Though she had a funny feeling who…

As to confirm her suspicions, the elevator doors burst open and Tony ran into the room. All four Avengers chocked on their coffee at the sight of their teammate.

Tony was wearing nothing but his red heart-shaped underwear which he _swore_ he did not have on when he went to bed. Bright red makeup covered his face, leaving it looking like a giant red tomato. As for his chest, it was as smooth as a baby's butt because _someone_ have gotten their hands on some duct tape and _ripped off_ his manly chest hair. And his hair, holy shit, _his beautiful hair_ was shaven almost completely off.

_Those monsters_. _Nobody_ messes with Tony Stark's hair and gets away with it.

"Tony," Steve was able to choke out, "What the _hell happened to you?_" Tony snorted and threw his hands into the air.

"_What happened_" he asked hysterically, "What happened? I'll tell you what happened. What happened was that she-devil was what happened!" Tony jabbed a finger at Natasha, who was simply leaning on the kitchen counter, innocently sipping her coffee.

She stopped when everyone stared at her.

"What?" she asked, "Clint helped." She nodded toward the archer standing at her side.

"Hey!" he complained, "It was _your_ idea in the first place!"

"Yeah…but you're the one who thought of sending the footage to everyone at S.H.E.I.L.D."

Silence.

…

"YOU WHAT?!" screamed Tony. Bruce winced – man that man has some vocal chords.

"Oh yeah," Natasha turned her attention toward the billionaire, "I had JARVIS send the footage we took of you having your little episode to some people."

"Why the hell would you do that to me?!" Tony panicked, "JARVIS! Quick, delete all the files of me in my bedroom from this morning!"

"_I'm sorry sir, but Agent Romanoff has already had me send the footage out. It is recording live as we speak."_

Tony paused as he tried to control himself. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and as calmly as he could said, "Please tell me you did not just tell me that every single person at S.H.E.I.L.D is currently watching me in my underwear, JARVIS."

_"Sorry sir, but that is exactly what's happening_."

Tony almost started to hyperventilate. Natasha rolled her eyes. Wimp.

"Just be lucky I didn't go with my first choice," she warned.

"It was to put you in a coffin full of non-venomous snakes and spiders and send you down a river," Clint chimed in.

Bruce sighed, when will Tony learn? Messing with master assassins is the stupidest thing to do, _especially_ if you live under the same roof as them.

"Tony," Bruce said in his commanding yet shy voice, "Go upstairs and get changed. We have work to do in the lab."

"I agree with Bruce," Steve agreed, "The sooner you put on clothes, the less embarrassing it will be for us."

"What, Cap, can't handle all of this?" Tony challenged, flexing his muscles in his arms and legs.

Steve's face turned bright red and looked away. "Not in your life, Tony."

"Good, 'cause I'm taken."

_Whhhhhiiiiiizzzzzz. Bam!_

The silver handle of a knife was glinting from behind Tony's head.

"Leave, Stark, you're boring us," stated Natasha. She didn't have time to listen to him banter and show off what he wished he had. Annoying Stark in his clothes was bad enough, but annoying Stark _without_ clothes was a terrible nightmare that'll never leave her head.

Tony let out a high pitched "_Eep_!" and jams his finger onto the elevator button a numerous amount of times as fast as he could. The doors opened and before the billionaire disappeared, he yelled, "You will pay for what you have done, you demonic spider!" Tony pointed his finger accusingly at Natasha. The doors slid shut and he was gone. For now.

Natasha shrugged her shoulders – as if she hasn't heard worse nick-names.

"_Agent Romanoff,"_ said the robotic butler, "_would you like me to cut the transmission?"_

"Yes, JARVIS," Natasha said, "I think I have proven my point."

Natasha then turned to the three men and glared. Her normally dark vibes increased ten-fold and made the men want to inch away. Any kind of Natasha was a dangerous Natasha. They had learned that the first day they met her, _she made sure of it_.

_WHAM!_

A silver knife with a string of red along the ridge of the blade grew from the counter.

_"Remember this the next time you mess with my stuff," _Natasha threatened.

Both Bruce and Steve paled – the bathroom had never seemed a more pleasant place to be.

"I will _never_ forget that, ma'am," said Steve seriously.

"Good."

She then turned to Bruce, who nodded his head rapidly. "Same goes with me," he replied.

She glared even harder.

Poor Bruce just about wet his pants. His eyes were the size of Thanksgiving plates, with a slight twitch - just how Natasha liked it.

"Ma'am," he choked out.

The next few minutes were filled with awkward silence. The super soldier and the scientist were doing their best to look anywhere _except_ at the short red haired woman with deadly knives all over her body, while the archer was doing _his_ ultimate best of not bursting out in laughter.

"So, Natasha," Clint said as casually as he could muster, "when can we see this video of Stark?"

An evil glint crossed the assassin's eyes. "Why not now?" she said ever so sweetly, "JARVIS, could you put the footage you just took of Stark this morning and play it on the TV?"

_"Of course, Agent Romanoff."_

The four Avengers looked at each other with the same mischievous look on their face. A second later, they literally _ran_ towards the living room that was three feet away and _jumped_ onto the couches.

"This oughta be good," Clint grinned. Nothing like pranking on of your own team members to start the day.

"It better, I spent _way_ too much time to have this fail," Natasha muttered.

The TV screen flashed on blue and read _Downloading…Downloading…_

The agents started to become agitated from waiting until _finally_ the screen changed.

But instead of Tony Stark sleeping in his underwear, it was Nick Fury, fully clothed and glaring at the superheroes.

"Hey, you're not Tony," whined Clint.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Agent Barton," Fury said. Clint huffed and looked away.

"Good morning, agents," he continued, "There is a fire currently burning in the outskirts of Craiova, Romania."

Clint felt Natasha tense beside him. That was _not_ a mission either of them wanted remember.

Flashed of the mission went through his mind, drug lord…coma…hospital…and fire, _so much fire_. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts.

"Why are you telling us?" Steve asked, clearly confused, "shouldn't the local fire department handle it?"

"Not if it involves us."

"How would a fire be so important that we should take an interest in it?" questioned Bruce.

"Answer that yourself, Dr. Banner."

Fury looked down and the screen switched to a camera high above the ground, most likely from a helicopter.

Their hearts stopped.

_"What the_ _hell is that?"_ Clint demanded – this _cannot_ be good.

"That is the reason we need you to come in," said Fury.

All three Avengers _stared _at Natasha. She was as white as a sheet of paper. Her normally blank eyes showed the slightest amount of fear.

_Holy shit._

That was the _most_ emotion they had e_ver_ seen come from her, excluding Clint. If her mask was cracking - _they are in trouble_.

Natasha was staring at the image on the TV.

"Is that the hospital?" she said in a calm voice_._

"Yes."

As she looked at the picture, she began to analyze the differences with the new fire and the original fire. The hospital was covered in even more ash. Smoke was billowing from the heat and fire. But the biggest difference was that the fire was _not_ everywhere. The only place the fire was at was in the middle of the charred building. It outlined and formed a bright, orange, flickering, hourglass.

_The mark of the Black Widow._

_Shit_.

"When do you want us to leave?" she asked as she slipped into Black Widow mode.

"You will depart in half an hour," Fury answered. And with that, the transmission ended. Natasha wasted no time.

"JARVIS," she said in her commanding voice as she took control of the situation, "Tell Tony to get his ass down here in fifteen minutes because we have a mission."

_"Yes, Agent Romanoff."_

And on that note, Natasha stood up and disappeared behind the elevator doors.

* * *

**...and that's the chapter. Please R&R, because that would make me happy :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own the Avengers.**

_15 minutes later…_

"Okay, so why _the hell_ did JARVIS say we have a mission in 10 minutes?!" demanded Tony as soon as he walked into the living room. Damn, he just can't get a break sometimes!

"Because we have a mission in 15 minutes, and _you're always late_," answered Natasha as she looked through her bag for her com. link.

_Silence._

Natasha felt uncomfortable vibes in the air. She looked up and almost cracked a smile at the sight of Tony. Everyone was looking back and forth between her and him.

She put her hands up and said, "Okay, _this one_ I had nothing to do with."

"Tony," choked out Bruce, "_what the _hell_ are you wearing?!"_

Steve blushed and looked away – this _cannot_ be happening.

"_Shut up,"_ Tony glared, "or I'll kick you all out." Clint snorted – simple threats like that won't do anything.

"Good luck with that," he said, "Fury wouldn't have us back even if we _begged_ him. Face it, Stark; we're stuck with each other. Deal with it."

"How the hell am I supposed to deal with _this?_" he gestured to himself.

"Beats me, you do it every day," said Natasha.

"Gee, thanks, that's what I was talking about," Tony said sarcastically.

"Hey, you were asking for it."

He huffed. W_hatever. _

Natasha eyed Stark up and down. Eeesh, whoever did it _should've_ given him more to wear than a Captain America T-shirt, bright yellow Bermuda shorts, and light blue clogs. Where the found that bright red baseball cap she had no idea. But it went with the stupidity of his clothes, so what the hey? She let it slide this time.

Natasha looked over and Clint and he shrugged.

"He's got a point," he said.

"Enough bickering," Steve cut in, his face still a little pink, "It's time to go."

"Whoa, wait a sec," Tony said, "I am _not_ going _anywhere_ looking like _this_."

"Why? It's an improvement," said Natasha dryly as she threw a backpack over her shoulder.

"Hey, no comments from you," he pointed at her.

"I dunno, she's kinda right, Stark," mused Clint as he put his hand on his chin in a thinking position. Stark was never really the best dresser in the group – although, he was _kind of_ biased…

"Bruce," whined Tony, "do you think you can spare me some clothes just for today? I'll get you _anything_ you want. Just say the word and it shall be yours."

General Ross kneeling and kissing Bruce's toes flashed through Bruce's mind. He shook his head to get rid of the thought – that will come _later._

"Sorry Tony," he apologized, "but _we have to go."_

"…then why won't anybody tell me about it?!" he demanded, but then paused, "Unless it's about me having a kid that I secretly didn't know about plotting to destroy the world. Then no, forget it." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Someone's going to be a _great_ father," she muttered sarcastically. Clint snorted.

"That'll be the day," he whispered back.

"_Sir,"_ JARVIS interrupted, _"the quinjet has arrived."_

"Alright, JARVIS," said Tony, irritated, "We'll be there in a sec."

"_But Agent Hill wants you there now."_

"Shit, Hill's coming?" Tony panicked.

"Common, Stark, give her a break," Steve said, "she's not _that_ bad."

"You're just biased because you've had a boy crush on her since the Loki incident."

Steve's cheeks grew bright red. "Wh-what are you talking about, Stark?" he said not so convincingly.

Tony opened his mouth to say a snarky comment, but Natasha intervened.

"Seriously Stark?" she said unimpressed, "Who do you think had the guts to fly over here and pick us up? Superman and his team of featherbrained freaks?"

Tony glared at her and muttered something unintelligible.

During their conversation, the group had begun to gravitate toward the platform. Steve opened the door for everybody and was hit by a burst of the chilly autumn air.

The quinjet was already there, waiting for them to get on, with Agent Hill standing in front of it, with a pissed off look on her face.

"Hey Hill," Clint said cooly.

"You're late," she said pointedly. Natasha shrugged her shoulders and began to walk – as if that's new.

"Stark's fault," she accused as she passed the senior agent. Hill rolled her eyes.

"What's new?" she muttered as she turned to followe the redhead.

Tony huffed. "Why is it always _my_ fault?" he exasperated.

"Because it's true," Clint retorted as he and Steve followed the women. Tony looked to the side and thought for a moment.

"Mmm, not always true, sometimes it's _you_, Legolas," he said.

Clint ignored him and disappeared behind into the plane. Tony paused.

"Al righty then," he decided and disappeared as well.

"Okay, now someone _please_ tell me what the hell is going on here?!" Tony demanded as soon as they went into the air.

"There's a fire in Craiova, Romania that we need to investigate," Steve answered.

"So I'm guessing that this isn't some fire where Grandma forgot to unplug the toaster, right?"

"The fire is burning in an hourglass-like shape, which is my symbol as the Black Widow," Natasha said. Tony paused. Okay, he _truly_ did not see that coming.

"…oh."

"Yeah, _oh_."

Tony's brain whirled and started to formulate ideas and stories to what and why caused this to happen. "So it might have something to do with your past?" he asked. He braced himself for a sarcastic remark.

"We'll see when we get there," she replied with a faraway look in her eyes.

Tony pulled his head back in surprise. "What, no 'No, Stark this has something to do with the future' or 'What do you_ think_?"

Natasha ignored him and fingered the red and silver hourglass on her belt.

Not knowing what to say, Tony looked over at Clint and mouthed '_What's up with her?"_

Clint gave a helpless look and mouthed back '_How am I supposed to know?'_

Tony huffed and went back to tinkering with his watch. "Just thought it could be a blood thirsty ex-assassin out to get her and then all of us," he muttered.

"Stark," Steve said in a commanding tone, "We don't know what we're up against. It could just be some kind of prank that some teenage kids pulled, not meaning to involve Agent Romanoff."

"Oh yeah," Tony said sarcastically, "'Cause nothing says April Fools like drenching an already burned down hospital with gasoline and setting it on fire _again._ Not to mention having it in an hourglass shape."

"Even then, we don't know what we're dealing with. Agent Romanoff," Captain said, looking at Natasha, "has anything similar to this come up in the past?"

Natasha looked up. For a split second, her eyes were scared and full of fear, and then they darkened and she said forcefully, "No, it could be anyone I have come in contact in the past twenty years. Even then, it could be an assassin trying to lure me out to take me down." _Lies. _

Clint caught the look. Something was up, but he decided to not bring it up. There were too many people around, and she didn't trust many of them - mostly Stark.

"Well whoever they are, we'll prepare for the worst," Clint confirmed as he wiped the shaft of an arrow with a rag.

**Okay, I am sooooooooooo sorry for not updating! I started school (college prep) and sports...with the homework, tests, practice, and games, I just barely found time to squeeze writing and finish this chapter. I promise the next one will be up really soon!:) Please R&R!**


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